In the Space of a Single Conversation
by ladywinterfic
Summary: Challenge response for a request involving Madara/Kakashi.  YAOI. "A single conversation with a wise man is better than ten years of study."  Chinese Proverb


**In the Space of a Single Conversation**

.o0o.

AN: I was prompted by soleil_et_pluie and ronsard for Kakashi/Madara and the pairing was so cracky I just had to see if I could write it. XD This was the result.

Prompts: "Madara (in disguise?) taught Kakashi how to get the MS without killing anyone. WHAM BAM, THANK YOU M'AM." and "secrets and lies."

Warnings: contains vaguely explicit, not really consensual sex.

* * *

_A single conversation with a wise man is better than ten years of study. _

~Chinese Proverb

* * *

It's a quarter to eleven and night and crickets hum at the edges of the shinobi bar where they might have been silent in most other bars. That particular place prized itself on discretion and excellence from both itself and its customers, and if you cannot move about the establishment without silencing the wild crickets then you're clearly In The Wrong Place.

Kakashi had situated himself in a nook just barely bright enough to read by. Icha Icha was always nice to return to after a long day.

However... He sighed, put the book down and his hitai-ate up and rubbed at his scar and the eye beneath it. His head felt like a ringing bell, and he was no closer to unlocking the eye's secrets.

A quiet noise of glass against wood almost made Kakashi twitch. He stifled the motion. He opened his senses instead and found a figure standing at his booth, otherwise making no motion other than to press the heel of his hand harder against his eyesocket.

The glass made a gentle half-turn on the table, a sound like a throat being cleared.

His first inclination was to ignore it. His second was to wonder why the person smelled of Nothing, where most things carried a scent if you concentrate hard enough. So Kakashi cracked open the eye that was unscarred. A man stood in front of his table. A shinobi, rather, and trusted, if they've made it so far into the bar; dark-haired, somewhat aged, but elegant for all that. Kakashi didn't recognize him, but that happened occasionally when some one returns from deep cover ops and certain types of long-term missions.

"May I offer you a drink?" the man asked cheerfully. Slid the glass across the table.

"Mou. A drink?" Kakashi glanced at the tumbler. It was Iwa scotch, deeply aged by the color, smelling of fire and smoke and expensive wood. Very expensive to purchase, in Konoha. "A lavish offer," he said mildly, unamused.

"Something to soothe someone who looks tired," the smile on the man said that he wasn't dissuaded and he sat in Kakashi's booth in a movement almost seeming as if he grew out of the chair. "Appease my whim, it's been awhile since I've been back. I find myself curious as to news of my hometown."

"I look like someone who would have news?" Kakashi curled up his eye in an unassuming curve.

"You look like someone who would have the more interesting ones," the dark-haired man smiled, the expression throwing the elegant lines of his face sultry, flicking his gaze down the slope of the Copy Nin's shoulders.

"Aa. But I'm not interesting at all!" he demurred, a lilt in his voice.

"Nonsense," the older nin tutted, leaned forward, "You are clearly an excellent shinobi at his prime, and improving with every day!" Added in a grating, condescending manner, "It's so good to see the younger generations pushing themselves!"

"Ojisan is so kind!" Kakashi simpered in return, his gaze disinterested.

"And kohai is so modest!" Paused. Murmured, "Even I, in the field, have heard of the infamous Sharingan no Kakashi."

He simply stared back; watched the older man's movements.

"Awhile back I said to myself, 'I should go see someday, when I have the chance, this child who was given the eye of an Uchiha!'" A nostalgic sigh, "But I suppose that was years ago. Two, at least."

Kakashi felt a tick develop, "Should Oj_ii_san be offering lavish drinks to a _child_ such as I then?"

A cheerful laugh in response, "Now now, I'm not old enough to be your _grandfather_ I don't think!" A thoughtful look, then a giggle, "The math escapes me these days."

"And I believe I should escape too," Kakashi murmured and started to slide from the booth.

"But that's no fun," a dark whisper in his ear, and suddenly the other nin was plastered against him and his hand was down Kakashi's pants. "I wanted to have some fun tonight, and you looked like you needed to relax." An even softer whisper, "I'm good enough to keep it quiet, are you good enough too Kakashi-chan?"

A lance of pleasure shot through him from his cock in a knowing grip, and a small curl of heat from their situation. It'd overpowered the pounding in his head for a brief moment, and that, in the end, despite the annoyance of the man, was what decided him.

"A better question, Ojiisan, is whether you can make me want to be loud," he said, expressionless but shifting his hip meaningfully against the other man's hardening cock.

"Well we'll just have to see, ne?" The other nin's eyes were deep and deeper and a patterned red that _must_ be a trick of the light or a trick of the stars bursting behind Kakashi's sight, as experienced hands worked down (through?) his pants like they were nothing and even the ambient sounds of the bar faded away.

Flashes of sensations, impressions, images. Electric touches and a stabbing, burning pleasure. Long dark hair shadowing an intense gaze. Kakashi felt his mouth captured and he was saying something against those lips and he did not know what. A hard, endless release.

Kakashi shivered back into himself in the afterglow. Found his pants were still on.

_What?_

"A word of advice," the dark-eyed man murmured against his masked neck, it felt like his lips were resting against Kakashi's skin, "Men are able to accomplish so much more when their hearts are damaged."

"Oh?" Something is wrong, and Kakashi tried to shift a little.

"To damage the heart it must first be filled."

Found that he couldn't. Move.

"What fills your heart Kakashi-chan? It is certainly not me."

_Why can't I move?_ the Copy Nin thought in rising panic. And he found he wasn't allowed to speak anymore.

Amused laughter. "I think I know. I will give you a gift, since you have told me what I wanted to know."

_Fuck._ Kakashi remembered his mouth moving, throat working, sounds. Four names, perhaps... two vague locations? _*Fuck*_.

And he still couldn't _move_.

"I will destroy this village," the dark man with the dark eyes said easily, a grocery list for all the emphasis he put into the words. "I will make the streets run rich with the blood of the Senju. And I will do it with the eyes of the Uchiha whom you taught, and the demon ripped from your sensei's son whom you did not. I will be able to do this even though I am telling you this and even if you're present and even with the power I am giving you right now." An anticipatory sigh. "They will die. They will all die. I'll let you watch."

All of Kakashi felt like one long disbelieving _scream_. Every muscle refused his command; even his eyes couldn't shift around, even his throat refused to work.

"I thank you for inviting me into your body and for letting me know where your _boys_ are at. I'm sure we'll have great fun too!"

Then the man rose and swallowed the scotch in one go; laughed and disappeared. There were no prints left on the glass. No dent in the booth next to him. No residual warmth.

No sign, really, that there had been anyone.

Except on Kakashi's body; in the ache in his ass and the wetness of his come and how Obito's eye _seared_ like a lance through his brain.

* * *

_end_

* * *

Ojisan = uncle

Ojiisan = grandfather

AN: heh. XD Madara wins against clothes? ::cackles:: =\ poor Kakashi, sharingan as a date-rape drug. x.x;;;


End file.
